HP Battle Royale
by hpbattleroyale
Summary: Pitched against each other, and fighting for their lives, how will the students of Hogwarts respond? Who will live? Who will die? Chapter summary: The students learn of their fate...
1. Prologue

**_Prologue: the Battle begins..._**  
_  
Title: Harry Potter Battle Royale: Prologue  
Authors: Anne Phoenix and Pernod Gilmore  
Rating: R_

Summary: Pitched against each other, and fighting for their lives, how will the students of Hogwarts respond?

_  
Chapter summary: The students learn of their fate..._

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Prologue**

Since Dumbledore's peaceful death one month earlier, the Ministry had slowly, but surely, taken over the running of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Dolores Umbridge had been immediately reappointed as Headmistress, and there was nothing Professor McGonagall could say or do to convince Fudge of the foolishness of this decision. On the contrary, the Minister had made it quite clear that the next member of staff to complain about Umbridge would be sacked without stay.

The students suffered for it. In four weeks, Potter had already served a dozen detentions. Tight bandages usually hid the damage those detentions had inflicted on his right hand, but sometimes, after a particularly long night, the blood seeped through the white linen, leaving a spotted, mocking trace of the words etched into the flesh below.

On Tuesday morning, as Minerva made her way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, she was surprised to meet groups of Aurors in the Entrance Hall. They were holding their wands as though poised for battle, and the first inkling of dark foreboding overcame her.

"What are you doing here?" Minerva demanded sharply of a young man she vaguely recognised as having been in Ravenclaw.

He jumped and blushed, before straightening himself. "Ministry orders, Professor. No student or member of staff is to leave the school."

Minerva's stomach gave a little flip. She hurried on towards the Great Hall, and was only moderately surprised to find its entrance guarded by senior Aurors. Several of them greeted her as she passed, but she had no time for them, for she had already noticed Minister Fudge strutting pompously along the front of the head table. She stormed up to him.

"What is the meaning of this, Cornelius?"

Fudge looked momentarily taken aback, then he puffed out his chest. "You will not stand in my way, Minerva! Please take your seat."

An Auror had already stepped forward to assist the Minister, but he was not needed. Minerva sidestepped Fudge and sat down in her usual place. She focused on the arriving students. The younger ones looked confused and scared; the older ones apprehensive and angry, as though they too suspected the worst. Minerva watched as Miss Granger stopped Potter from confronting an Auror, and dragged him to his seat.

But if anyone had known the truth, they would have taken their chances against the Aurors and stormed out of the castle in panic.

Once it looked like all of the students had arrived, Fudge used a spell to count them, and then ordered the great doors to be closed. He cleared his throat.

"Professors and students of Hogwarts! These are dark days, and difficult decisions have had to be made.

"Three days ago, it came to our attention that a weapon has been developed. A weapon so great that it can annihilate all magical existence in the blink of an eye!"

He paused for effect. Minerva realised her hands were shaking a little, mirroring the fear evident in the eyes of the students. She tried to reassure them, but found she could not muster even the weakest smile.

"We have negotiated with the creator of this weapon, and have struck a… _satisfactory_ agreement."

Fudge was looking nervous now; his eyes flitted towards the closed doors. "I… uhm… am stepping down from my position as Minister for Magic. To… ah… uhm… Well, we were hardly in a position to negotiate. He has the power to destroy everything! So… ah. It makes perfect sense to admit defeat graciously, and so I would like to… errrrr… welcome – You-Know-Who!"

Perfectly on cue, the doors swung open, allowing a mass of black-cloaked, white-masked figures to swarm into the Great Hall. At their centre, unmistakably, was Lord Voldemort. Minerva flinched at the sight, her entire being overwhelmed with horror. She vaguely noticed Fudge backing away from the advancing group and sinking into a chair at the end of the Hufflepuff table. The terrified screams of the students filled the air; Potter collapsed on his empty plate, clutching his head with both hands.

Voldemort's nostrils flared as he made his way to the front of the room, as though savouring the fear pervasive in the crowd. He reached the head table, where the teaching staff sat frozen with shock. His Death Eaters spread out around the room, joining the Aurors in their guard.

The Dark Lord wasted no time.

"I hold all of your lives in my hand," he announced triumphantly, holding out his hand for all to see, and curling long white fingers into a fist. "I can crush all magical existence. But what glory is there is reigning over ruins? None. Lord Voldemort has made a most generous offer to the Ministry. They will not fight my supreme rule. They understand the consequences of resistance. In exchange, I will be a lenient leader."

Minerva fought not to cry. Many of the students, abandoning all pretence of bravery, sobbed in each other's arms, and emotionally, she was quite ready to join them. But until they all knew what Voldemort wanted, she knew she had to stay strong. She turned her attention back to the Dark Lord, for he was talking again.

"I do not believe mere children can understand politics. You, who have been brought up to hate me, to fight me, I fear you will not obey me. I do not trust children. Therefore I cannot allow this generation to grow up. _Expelliarmus Maximus!_"

Minerva cried out as several hundred wands escaped their owners, and flew into a neat pile at Voldemort's feet. She closed her eyes so as not to see the stricken faces of her beloved students; but that could not block out the panicked screams.

Voldemort laughed coldly, bringing the room back to order. "Lord Voldemort is generous. Death is easy; it is swift and merciful. But the most worthy of you shall not be sacrificed with the others. Let us make it a game. In a moment, I will tell you my rules, but first…"

He broke off and headed towards the Gryffindor table, where Potter half-lay on the table, his shallow pants interspersed with small whimpers.

Miss Granger immediately drew herself up, her face set in grim determination. "Leave him alone!" she pleaded, her voice trembling.

Minerva could not see Voldemort's expression, but Miss Granger shrank back in fear. On the other side of the table, Mr Weasley looked deathly pale. Potter lifted his head; his lips moved, but Minerva couldn't make out the words. Voldemort, however, broke into peals of high-pitched laughter. He grabbed Potter by the hair and dragged him forcefully away from the table. A titter of delighted anticipation ran through the Death Eaters. Minerva wanted to throw up.

Potter hit the floor, but hastily scrabbled to his feet. His face was screwed up in pain from his scar, but his expression was still defiant.

"You and I, Harry, have a yet more personal score to settle," Voldemort hissed.

Potter answered with a snarl, unexpectedly throwing himself onto Voldemort, and wrestling for his wand. Judging by the expression on the other professors' faces, they felt as weak as Minerva. No one dared move – no professor, no student, no Death Eater, no Auror… Everyone watched with morbid fascination as Voldemort easily threw Potter off him and pointed his wand at the boy's heart.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

Minerva closed her eyes. She couldn't watch this. For all his faults, she was so very fond of Potter. She heard the weighty thud of a body hitting the ground, and could not stop the tears from leaking out beneath her eyelids. For a moment there was silence, and then all hell broke loose.

She knew she had to look. It was her duty. She should have done more than sit there; should have jumped up and died in his place. Given another opportunity, she would do so in a heartbeat… but it all seemed so terribly unreal.

Where she expected to find the lifeless corpse of Harry Potter, there was no one. Potter was back at the Gryffindor table, cradling Hermione's body, tears streaming down his face. All around the hall, students were crying. Voldemort looked absolutely delighted.

"A score can be settled in many ways, Harry. I would not deny you your chance in my game."

Harry looked up, a savage scowl twisting his features. This time, his voice rang out through the hall, loud and clear. "Then you deny yourself your victory," Harry spat, "because I am going to kill you."

An amused laugh escaped Voldemort's thin lips. "You are so confident, and yet you have no idea of the cost. Let us talk about my game."

Minerva's heart gave a little flutter as those unforgiving red eyes briefly met hers, then the Dark Lord swirled around to face the entire hall. A few students were still hiding their faces in their hands, or on the shoulders of their neighbours, but most of them now looked up at him with wide eyes.

Voldemort wasted no time.

"The game is very simple. Even the Mudbloods among you should be able to remember the rules. Those Mudbloods that are still alive, in any case."

He punctuated his words with an obvious glance towards Miss Granger. Potter and Weasley both tensed, and looked ready to spring, but the other Gryffindors held them back. Minerva muttered silent thanks. She wasn't sure her heart could stand another confrontation like before.

"The aim of the game is simple: you are to fight for your lives. Kill or be killed. There is no room for mercy or friendship."

Voldemort turned slightly to a cloaked figure on his far right. An aristocratic drawl sounded from behind the white mask.

"Listen well to these rules, for I will not be repeating myself."

Never mind another confrontation, Minerva didn't think she could survive another word. The silence in the hall was deadly; even Potter and Weasley had dried their tears and were attentive to the speaker. _Lucius Malfoy_, a voice in her mind supplied.

"We have warded a large area within the Forbidden Forest. You will all be released one by one into this playing field, but only one of you will return. You will fight to to the death. If you band together, help each other, or decide not to play at all, you will _all_ die. We will be tracking your movements with charmed Devil's Snare around your necks. Any attempt to remove this will result in instant suffocation. You cannot stay in one place for longer than 8 hours, or you will be killed. After all, we can hardly let you ruin the game for the others by hiding."

The figure turned back to Voldemort, who seemed to be surveying the students carefully. The Slytherins looked especially scared, as though they had expected to be exempt from the Dark Lord's madness.

Voldemort continued where his Death Eater had finished. "Lord Voldemort is not heartless. To give you all a fair chance, you will each receive a bag containing items that may, or may not, be useful to you – weapons, food, water. I hardly need tell you that you may keep any trophies you recover from a kill."

The students shared horrified looks. They did not dare say anything. Up at the staff table, Minerva too, exchanged horrified glances with the other members of staff. But there was nothing they could do to stop this massacre.

Lord Voldemort raised his hands one final time. His voice rang clear and triumphant. "Let the game begin…"

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 1, Part 1

Many thanks to the readers who took the time to review the prologue!

In response to "The Whisperer": this is an interactive fic, so hopefully the input of several brains will help avoid monotony and repetitiveness. You'll notice the authors of the different chapters are not the same people. That said, we're open to criticism & discussion (but we'd rather do that at our website!)

Incidentally, for a list of all Hogwarts students participating in the game & for information, on how to submit challenges or join in with the writing, please refer to the website linked from our profile…

Anne

xxx

_Title: Harry Potter Battle Royale: Chapter 1, part 1  
Author: __Pernod Gilmore__  
Rating: R_

Summary: Pitched against each other, and fighting for their lives, how will the students of Hogwarts respond?  
Chapter summary: Response to the character challenge: Taking up where the prologue left off, the students receive their survival packs and the game begins. The last student observes all this with trepidation until his/her turn finally comes and he/she is also set loose into the Forbidden Forest.

Characters to eliminate: all 3rd year Hufflepuffs!

_Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

**Chapter 1, part 1: The Die Is Cast**  


**Day One:** 11am  
**Deceased:** Hermione Granger  
**Students Remaining:** 61

The silence that greeted Voldemort's words was so intense that Draco could have heard a pin drop. He glanced around the hall, surreptitiously assessing the backlash. Teachers and students alike wore identical expressions of shock and disbelief.

The pause stretched on and on. Each passing second strained the tension still further, until it was almost unbearable. Anticipating the inevitable break was agonising, like the nervous wait before an exam when questions such as "Have I revised the right things?" revolve in your head.

_But this isn't like any test I've ever sat before_, thought Draco.

A twisted perversion of the accolade he usually so eagerly sought – being the best, the brightest – lay in wait for him outside the hall.

_My prize comes at a high price. The stakes are rising every minute._

"No!"

That was it. A veritable storm of panic and confusion broke out over the hall. Draco couldn't tell who had snapped first. The initial cry was lost in the roar of voices that released everyone from their stupor. Seats were overturned, tempers flared. Wherever he looked, students were grappling either with each other or with the Aurors in an effort to get at the Death Eaters. But, bereft of their wands, there was nothing anyone could effectively do against the Ministry officials. Instead they had to scream their helpless rage at the teachers.

"You can't!"

"It's an outrage!"

"Professor, _do something_!"

McGonagall was on her feet. Draco noticed her hands were balled in fists at her sides. Her voice trembled slightly. But she spoke with grim determination, shouting over the commotion.

"Quiet! There will be order please."

_It won't do any good. Standing up to The Dark Lord will get you as far as it got Granger._

Draco didn't feel even a slight pang of grief at the thought that one of his classmates had just died. A tiny smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, which he quickly suppressed. He had a healthy enough respect for both The Dark Lord and his father to keep up his habitual expression: an impassive mask. It maintained the dignity of the Malfoy name. Lucius was always very clear about that!

Draco had been warned of Hogwarts' impending fate before the school year had begun. On a hot Sunday afternoon in the last week of August, Lucius had summoned his only son into the study. He didn't beat around the bush.

"This is your time, Draco. The Dark Lord will be watching you very closely. Everything you have been taught has led you to this point. Now you can prove yourself worthy of the honour. Glory is within your grasp. Do not fail."

That was it. Three simple words.

Do. Not. Fail.

He remembered the intense feeling of nausea that washed over him. He had left the room with bile rising in his throat. _Please no,_ he had silently, uselessly begged. _I'm not ready._

The choice was laid out clearly before him. To seize this chance and become a Death Eater as was expected, or to… to what?

There was no choice.

Not really.

It was another clever illusion of his father's making.

Do. Not. Fail.

He turned his attention back to the hall. _At least it allowed me time to be more prepared for this than McGonagall_, Draco reflected. It appeared that she was about to lose her legendary self-possession.

"I cannot possibly allow this. Nor can I believe the Ministry agreed to it. _Cornelius!_" 

Her eyes darted to Fudge, who sat with his head in his hands at the Hufflepuff table.

A note of desperation crept into her voice. _"Cornelius!"  
_  
No answer.

Draco's eyes moved from the carnage of the main hall to the teacher's table. He scrutinised the rest of the staff, taking in their reactions. The headmistress' expression was hard to read. She sat very straight in her chair at the centre of the table, looking thoughtfully at the defeated Fudge. Now and then her toad-like eyes flitted to Voldemort and she licked her lips nervously. That oaf, Hagrid, had knocked over everything within reach. Flitwick stood on his cushioned chair as still as a statue, complete with a marble-like blankness on his face. Trelawney grasped Professor Sprout's arm, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. At the far right end of the table sat Snape, the newly appointed DADA teacher. 

Privately, Draco almost sympathised with his godfather. What a bitch! To get the promotion you'd been wanting for years only to have all your students plunged into a game of wits that would leave only one alive. _But then again_, Draco thought distractedly, _it's going to be me he's left with. That'll be good._

Snape was sitting so far forward in his chair that he perched on the edge of his seat. His hands were pressed flat on the table in front of him and his eyes were fixed on The Dark Lord. The masked figure Draco identified as his father leaned over and spoke to Snape in a low murmur. Draco was too far away to hear what was being said but he saw Snape's eyes glittering dangerously, a sneer settling on his lips.

_What's that? Will he help me, I wonder?_

A sudden movement at the Hufflepuff table drew Draco's eye back to the main action. Fudge was jerking his head from side to side. His face was still hidden. He was mumbling something about, "No choice, Minerva…how can we resist him? No choice…can't be helped."

The Dark Lord, evidently deciding his victims had had sufficient time to get over their hysteria, spoke again. "Enough of this! Lord Voldemort's patience wears thin."

A Death Eater advanced on McGonagall. She backed into her seat, mute frustration written all over her face.

_"Wingardium Leviosa!"_

Pointing his wand at the Hufflepuff table, Voldemort levitated it steadily over the heads of the students and moved it to the right-hand side of the hall. It hovered there for a second before staring to fall. The Gryffindors who had remained seated cried out in alarm and hastily scrambled out of their benches. Voldemort turned and did the same to the Ravenclaw table, setting it down aside the Slytherin table. Draco unfurled himself from the bench with somewhat more elegance and composure than his housemates. Now was so _not_ the time to lose his cool.

He stood to one side of the student's grouped in the middle of the cleared hall. The younger ones amongst them were sobbing raggedly, some barely able to stand. The older ones tried to comfort them but many were also too badly shaken to offer any solace. A few remained sullen and defiant, he noticed, like Potter and the Weasley twins. _Typical Gryffindor heroics._ The Death Eaters fanned out in a circle around the edges of the hall, pointing their wands threateningly at the pupils. The Aurors guarded the teachers with somewhat less enthusiasm.

There was no-where to run. 

Voldemort turned his back on the chaotic crowd. As he spun around, the students at the front of the group drew back. None were eager for even his cloak to brush against them in passing. From his position, Draco couldn't see what The Dark Lord was doing. His voluminous robes concealed his actions.

After a minute and muttered word, Voldemort turned around. A small granite column with a black stone orb atop had appeared. _Obsidian_, Draco barely had time to think before Voldemort was talking again.

"When you hear your name, step forward immediately. You will collect your pack and be fitted with a collar. The orb is a port-key. It will take you, one at a time, to the Forbidden Forest."

The masked figure of Lucius Malfoy stepped forward again. Unrolling the top part of a large scroll, he began calling out names.

"Adrian Pucey."

A 7th year Slytherin boy stepped forward.

_Show them how it's done._ Draco scoffed.

Pucey looked pale. His skin had a green tinge and his lips were pressed in a hard line. He kept his eyes pointed at the floor. Voldemort looked at him with distant interest. Another masked figure hurried forward, fixed a Devil's Snare collar loosely around his neck and pointed his wand at it. 

_"Reducio."_

The collar snapped to a tight fit around Pucey's throat. He choked a little and instinctively clutched at it. After a moment of fright, Draco saw the tension in his shoulders relax when he realised he wasn't going to die. Voldemort smiled coldly. The minion threw a backpack at the startled boy and pointed at the orb. Pucey swallowed audibly and reached forward with a single trembling hand. Then he was gone.

The other students released a collective breath, perversely relieved that it had happened as they had been told.

"Graham Pritchard."

A young Gryffindor hugged his friends, whispering small comforts, and stepped forward.

From then on in they went rapidly down the list. The students went forward in turn, got collared, received their packs and disappeared. What could they do? Some cried, some raged, some were silent. Those lucky few with presence of mind made arrangements to meet on the outside. Steadily the group dwindled.

"Ron Weasley."

Draco looked around with half an interest. He had forgotten the Weasel's existence in all the uproar. Ron was still on the floor, cradling Hermione's body in his arms. His eyes were red, but dry now. His anger was settling into cold hatred. You could see the emotion plain on his face.

_That won't help you_, Draco shook his head. _Weak. Wearing your heart on your sleeve. Tisk-tisk Weasel._

Harry heaved Ron to his feet. He whispered something in the redhead's ear. Ron shot a glare at his best friend before wrenching his arm away and stalking up to the top of the room. He endured the collar without flinching and snatched his pack from the Death Eater. Then he whirled around and clapped his hand on the orb, all the while avoiding Voldemort's glance.

"Harry Potter."

Potter had somehow found the time to summon a carefully blank expression, Draco noted. There was, however, more than a hint of anger and grief below the surface. He wasn't a good enough liar to conceal it.

Harry followed the same route as everyone else. Collar, bag, orb. He walked stiffly, as though being that close to Voldemort caused him pain. As he reached for the port-key, however, he looked up and met The Dark Lord's gaze. 

_He's going to do something stupid!_ Draco leaned forward in anticipation.

"It's a bit cowardly, isn't it? Even for _you_. You used to be able to kill defenceless children all by yourself. Now you force us to kill each other. Not up to the job anymore?"

Voldemort stepped closer to the insolent boy. He grabbed a handful of Harry's hair and ran a finger slowly, almost possessively, down one cheek. Harry flinched at the caress. A slight groan escaped his blue-tinted lips.

"On the contrary, Potter. I have great plans for the winner of this game. But first, they must prove themselves worthy of my attention."

He let go. "Will it be you?"

With a flat denial Harry shook himself and turned to the orb. "I will never play your game, Voldemort."

"Oh, I think you'll find that you will, Potter." Voldemort mocked softly, addressing the empty space where his enemy had stood a moment before.

Lucius' voice rang out again.

"Luna Lovegood."

The remaining students were called until, finally, only Draco was left.

"Draco Malfoy."

He stepped forward, confident at the sound of his father's voice, to receive his collar and pack.

"Ah, young Malfoy."

Voldemort tilted Draco's chin up to study his face. "Your father is among my most trusted Death Eaters. Should I expect a great performance from you?"

Repressing the shudder that thrilled his body at The Dark Lord's touch, Draco forced an answer past his dry tongue. "Yes, my lord."

"We shall see."

Draco blinked. _Is that all? Should I wait?_ After a heavy pause he come to his senses and bowed. He nodded at his father. Then he turned and placed his hand on the orb…

**To be continued in Part 2…**


	3. Chapter 1, Part 2

_**Chapter 1, Part 2**_

_Title: Harry Potter Battle Royale: Chapter 1, Part 2  
Authors: Pernod Gilmore  
Rating: R _

_Summary: Pitched against each other, and fighting for their lives, how will the students of Hogwarts respond?_

_  
Chapter summary: Draco finds himself faced with his first kill…_

_Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

The air was thick with smoke and frenzied shouts. At first Draco thought he'd landed in the middle of a battle. He ducked, taking advantage of the puny shelter of a nearby shrub. Once out of sight, he chanced a look around. He appeared to have come out in a large clearing. The noise was away to his right. He could see vague figures running, but he couldn't make out who they were.

"Draco!"

A low, gruff voice called out his name. He couldn't tell where it was coming from and he ignored it anyway. He wanted to look through his backpack and to do that he needed shelter. This was far too vulnerable a position to stay in for long. He slung his bag over one shoulder and, keeping low to the ground, made a bee-line for the trees. He threw himself behind the nearest one in time to hear -

"Draco!"

The voice was much closer this time. He looked up. As luck would have it, he had stumbled into a nest of Slytherins. Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy stared at him with wide eyes.

"Bloody hell, Draco!" Pansy's voice was high-pitched and breathless. "It's really messed up out there." Her face gleamed with a repulsive excitement.

Stifling a grimace, Draco rolled onto his knees and unzipped his bag. _Just my luck! I get stuck with this lot right from the start. May as well make use of them._

"Who's around? Is anyone dead yet? Have you spoken to anyone?" He fired questions at them as he rummaged.

"I got here first," answered Pansy. "It was quiet, but then more people arrived. Some of them were really panicking and started arguing. When they all remembered they had weapons things turned nasty. I don't know if anyone is dead yet, though."

"Why aren't you fighting?" Draco stopped his search to look at her.

"It's too confused out there. You're more likely to be hit than hit someone in all the commotion. I say we find somewhere safer to work out a plan."

"We? You're suggesting we work together on this?" _Great, a fucking group activity! Last one to kill a classmate is a Flobberworm._

"For the meantime, at least. It's a good idea. We'll get further." Pansy met his eyes steadily.

_Damn she can be cold sometimes, though that's no bad thing right now. And she does have a point_. Draco scowled. So may people made the mistake of thinking he liked his housemates. _As if I could like anyone with an IQ lower than a Troll_. However, it appeared unavoidable that he would have to suffer their company for a while. He clenched his teeth.

"Right. Crabbe? Goyle? What are your weapons?"

"Club."

"Axe."

_Hmmm. Apt._

"Pansy?"

"My wand."

Draco bit the inside of his lip. _Smug bitch. _That was exactly what he had been hoping for. Forcing down a pang of worry, he upended his bag onto the ground and stared at the contents. For a moment he didn't register what his eyes were telling him. Nothing! There was no weapon there at all, just some food and water.

_That can't be right!_ All the blood rushed down his body and pooled somewhere around his knees, leaving him temporarily blind with dizzy panic. _There must be some mistake._ He scrabbled amongst the items, hysteria rising faster than was pretty.

Pansy pounced on something.

"Oh, look! You got your wand too. For a minute there I couldn't see it in the grass. Wouldn't that have been funny, if you'd had no weapon at all?" She giggled. Draco snatched the wand rather viciously from her hand. He was drenched in cold sweat and his heart was pounding. But he took a breath and closed his eyes in relief, choosing to ignore the fact that he had nearly just lost control.

_Smooth, Draco. What next? Screaming like a Hufflepuff?_

"Listen." Pansy put out her hands to hush everyone. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" grunted Crabbe.

"Nothing. That's what I mean. It's gone quiet. Fuck, this is creepy. What do you think is happening?"

Draco tensed at the silence, listening for all he was worth.

"AHHHHHHHH!"

A sudden scream rent the air, sharp and terrified. Hearing it was like being pierced by countless needles. Draco couldn't sit still and listen to it. He stood up.

"I'm going to look. The rest of you stay here."

"But I want to see – "

"I mean it, Pansy. Wait."

Draco stuck his wand into his waistband, scooped the rest of his stuff into his bag and ducked into the Forest. He made his way cautiously along the right curve of the clearing, keeping to the shadows of the trees. The screaming went on, but not as loud as before. Now it was rather more sobbing and wailing. He got as close as he thought was necessary to the source of the noise and tentatively peeked round a large oak.

What he saw would have shocked him, if he hadn't been a Malfoy. A small group of agitated Hufflepuffs stood near the body of a dead classmate. No one seemed to want to go near it. _Loyalty wanes fast when it's a fight to the death_, Draco noted wryly.

One boy stood a little away from the others holding a crossbow limply at his side. His eyes were fixed on the corpse. The rest of them were arguing loudly.

The dead boy lay on his back with his face turned towards Draco's hiding place. He had one massive arrow lodged in his throat, another in his chest. Blood had bubbled up around the neck wound and trickled in bright red rivulets to the ground. But it wasn't that so much as the expression on his face that was really disturbing. His mouth lolled open in a gruesome reminder of his final desperate gasps for life. A swollen, purplish tongue poked slightly out between his lips. His eyes were wide open and glassy.

The girl who had been screaming knelt at his feet, head bowed in grief.

"Kevin! Kevin!" She shook his legs uselessly, crying hard. "You can't be dead. You can't be. It's not fair."

An older Hufflepuff girl stepped forward and put her arm around the girl's shoulders, lifting her to her feet.

"Elenor, come away dear – "

"Fuck off, Susan!" Elenor shook the arm away. Her voice was hoarse. "Stop trying to be so calm when everything is falling apart. How can you stand there so bloody quietly when HE – " she whirled around pointing at another Hufflepuff boy, " – just killed Kevin. Owen _killed_ Kevin."

Saying the words out loud had an eerie effect on the group. It seemed to make the kill real somehow, as though before there had been hope it was all a ruse. The realisation that it was actually happening settled over them. It bleached away any warm feelings they had for each other.

Taking the initiative, Elenor reached into her robes with both hands. It took Draco a second to see what she had taken out, as her back was turned to him. Two small knives, one in each hand, glittered dangerously in her grip. She prowled around the body.

"Elenor! Don't -"

"Owen, watch out!"

The noise level reached a crescendo as Elenor advanced on Owen. She paused about four feet away from him. Draco couldn't see the expression on her face, but he saw the blank shock on Owen's morph into terror as Elenor stepped forward once more. She spun her body in a full circle to bring all her weight down on the knife in her right hand. Slicing deeply into Owen's neck, she quickly followed up the first hit with another from the knife in her left hand. The second stroke hit his jugular and a hot spray of blood gushed from the wound. He slumped to the ground, rapidly turning paler and paler.

Elenor teetered back, turning to face the others. The front of her uniform was drenched scarlet. At her feet Owen bled quietly to death and all the while she smiled coldly.

Susan threw a panicked look at the remaining girls.

"Hannah? Laura?" Draco heard the catch in her voice.

Hannah looked at her, looked back at Elenor and ran. She grabbed her bag on the way past and disappeared into the Forest. Draco had to duck back behind his tree to avoid being seen. When he looked out again, Susan was biting her lip and dancing from foot to foot. Tentatively, she reached out to Elenor. The younger girl narrowed her eyes. That was enough. Susan turned and fled after Hannah.

"Elenor?" Laura tried one last plea. She didn't seem to hear. Laura licked her lips nervously. "I don't think Owen meant to kill Kevin. He was just panicked and it looked like Kevin was going to attack him. He was running at Owen. We realised too late it was to push him out the way of a spell. I don't even know who cast it, there were too many people -"

"Stop babbling. There's only one way to get through this now. The game's started and it's up to us to finish it."

"Finish it? No. I'm not going to let you kill me. We're friends, housemates. We help each other with homework. We laugh together."

"Not anymore. None of that matters here."

Elenor closed the distance between them and, for the second time, dyed her knife red in a classmate's flesh. Laura stumbled backwards, clutching the wound in her stomach. She gurgled, spluttered blood and pitched forward onto the grass. Elenor remained unmoved.

_Now or never. _Draco stepped out from behind the tree.

"Nicely done." He dropped his bag and drew his wand. "The world won't miss a few Hufflepuffs and it saves me the trouble."

Elenor still didn't budge. Draco frowned. He could have killed her already, why hadn't she moved? _Why haven't you killed her?_ countered a little voice in the back of his mind. He took an uncertain step closer.

She suddenly lashed out. Draco had to raise his arm quickly to protect his face. Moments later it was searing in pain, split open nearly to the bone. He could feel his heartbeat along the gaping edges of the laceration as blood flowed freely from it, soaking his sleeve.

Letting out an angry roar, he backed away cradling the wound to his chest. Luckily it was his left arm. The other was uninjured and he brandished his wand threateningly.

"Do it." She taunted. "If you don't kill me, I'll kill you. Then another, then another…until this whole sorry mess is over. You have a wand. Why are you even injured? There was no need to get this close. You could have stayed at a nice sanitary distance and done the thing just as well."

Draco curled his lips into a contemptuous sneer. "Where would my manners be if I didn't at least introduce you to your killer?" Witty repartee took a back seat to remaining upright as nausea kicked in. He was beginning to feel cold and shaky. _Fuck that hurts!_

Elenor regarded him appraisingly for a minute. "I know who you are. You're a Malfoy. Ha! Getting your hands dirty doesn't sit well with the image, does it? Is that why you can't do it? Is that why I, a 3rd year Hufflepuff _girl_, am beating you at a Slytherin's game…"

"_Avada Kedavra_."

A dense stream of green light came whooshing past Draco's robes, cutting off the brazen tirade. Elenor was dead before she hit the ground. Her face hadn't even changed its mocking expression.

Draco twisted around, clumsy with blood loss. Pansy stood there, white and shaking with anger. Crabbe and Goyle came lumbering up behind her, carrying the bags.

"Pansy!" Draco exclaimed wrathfully. "I told you to wait. I was handling this."

"How could you let her talk to you like that? Filthy little whore." Pansy walked over and kicked the fallen Hufflepuff.

"I would have done it myself a second later. All you had to do was wait for me."

Pansy looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Do you think I'm stupid, Draco? You took all your stuff with you to 'come and have a look.' I knew you had no intention of coming back. Well I'm not going to let you off as easy as that. We're sticking together for the next few days or until circumstances dictate otherwise."

Draco swayed on his feet. He wouldn't admit he didn't have the strength to argue.

"Shit. Now we need to get you patched up. And we have to move. No more than 8 hours in one place, remember?"

_Great. I get Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle to watch my back - a spoiled princess and a couple of gargoyles. How do you fancy your chances, Draco? _

Pansy gave him no time to think of a get out solution. She pushed him gently in the direction of the trees. They melted swiftly into the shade of the Forest, leaving the scene of their first slaughter to ripen in the afternoon sun.


End file.
